


Nobody-city

by Felix_Frolov



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 17:43:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7448227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felix_Frolov/pseuds/Felix_Frolov
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the world, where any touch is concidered mauvais ton, I want to touch you... forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nobody-city

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anna-Hell](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Anna-Hell).



> This is a translation from Russian by KingShisui (http://archiveofourown.org/users/KingShisui/profile)

What do you need to know first of all when you dare to go outside? That’s right – weather forecast. At least that’s how people called it earlier. Now the concept of “weather” lost its original meaning. But at the same time “forecast” gained much more importance than it had in the past.

‘Today a high concentration of hydrogen sulphide is to be observed in the air. We advice you not to leave your flats without filters of the B-type!’ A girl in a panoramic mask, respirator and a puffy, almost dollish dress, spangled with white beads, flitted on the big black and white screen. ‘Particular men of fashion can use the C-type.’ She held in hands two at first glance absolutely equal respirators, but anyone who watched the morning program (in other words – everyone) knew the difference perfectly well.

One-three-seven drearily drew from a shelf with lined up respirators of different types the one he needed. He pulled it on right after the panoramic mask, slipped on the heavy hood of the black jacket and only then allowed himself to walk into hermetic corridor and pushed the exit button.

‘Please check whether you have put on the respiratory protective equipment,’ there was heard an electronic voice.

‘Checked.’

‘Are you confirming that the protective equipment is on and capable of working?’

‘I confirm.’

‘Please step away from the door. Depressurization can entail slight change of pressure…’

‘Yeah, yeah, let me out already,’ the boy grumbled with asperity. Not that he wanted so much to get to work, but he wasn’t eager to stay at home either.

He began to notice lately that the surroundings depress him. The walls seemed to be pressing One-three-seven from all sides. He felt as if he was a locked up in a box duffer with oxygen running out. Only instead of a box there was a city. The whole underground city.

Finally the door of his dwelling moved to the side with a hiss, giving One-three-seven the opportunity to go outside. If you could call it like that, for sure. Because no matter where he was: in the room or in the city, the walls were still around him. Brick or stone.

‘What is it like to live under the limitless skies, I wonder…’ The boy asked himself that question since childhood, since he came across one of those useless books that told about former surface and were, as society claimed, of no value for people of new generation. Blue sky, white clouds, black firmament, sparkling stars. All of this sounded as good as some fantastic story. Maybe the text in that useless book was one? Maybe the world with high skies never existed? But still One-three-seven wanted to believe that there was something more than just brick walls and low, dismal ceilings that met every eye in the city.

‘Good morning.’ There was heard a cold greeting from the neigbour, the door to whose room was to the right of the boy. It was just like One-three-seven’s door, just like hundreds of other doors, ranked inside the endless residential compound, which spirally filled the whole city territory.

‘Morning,’ nodded One-three-seven, looking attentively at the dark navy respirator and panoramic mask with blue glints, which the neighbour put on as usual. There was a time when people were being described based on their eye and hair colour. Now they have been replaced by masks and filters. Because hair rarely peeped out of caps, hoods or hats shuffled on a head, and even if there were seen a couple of hair locks, they seemed pale or dirty. In eternal shadows and behind colourful masks glasses it was impossible to see eyes, and no one ever tried. Respirator and mask colour – this was more than enough. For most of people. One-three-seven was not like other citizens of the city (at least that’s what he thought). Because he still had Curiosity in himself. While other citizens forgot what is it like to Want to know something long ago. They got up to go to work every morning and came back home every evening. They didn’t talk much. They didn’t visit each other, although in useless books there were described friendly get-togethers of people of former generations. People loved spending time with their kind earlier. The closest and dearest ones were even called friends. Friends. Get-togethers. When did everything change? Why?

‘I need to get hold of more books! What if I will find there the answers to these torturing questions?’ One-three-seven thought, feeling incredibly cheered up at the mere thought of going to the useless dump of useless books, which was in one of the north caves. It was in fact forbidden to go there – too dangerous, but this never stopped the boy. He needed to know. It didn’t matter, what.

‘But only after work…’ One-three-seven brought himself down a peg standing on a blue escalator, which took every citizen of the city even deeper under the ground, where were being done different kinds of work. There were greenhouses for growing food and grazing lands for animals – in separate hermetically sealed rooms only for the chosen ones. When One-three-seven turned twelve, he, like any other citizen of the city, got through the special identification for sorting by profession. He really wanted to get in such a greenhouse. In such a grazing land. But he was sent to the city filter. It was the time, when the first, but not the last, boy’s dream was shattered. They said that the air in the rooms with growing food was so clean the throat wasn’t rasping, and it left sweetish aftertaste in your mouth. Not even compared to the air that was supplied to the hermetically sealed rooms. Much less it could be compared to the air on the streets of the city. The work with the city filter was surely very important too, because it was there where regulation and distribution of oxygen took place, but One-three-seven couldn’t shake the feeling, that it wasn’t what he wanted. However… nobody here was interested in personal wishes of a separate work unit, as electronic voices, that controlled almost every people’s move, usually called citizens of the city. And One-three-seven could hardly object that.

‘Once people had the sky. They also had names, not numbers. And they decided what to do next and how to live better for themselves. It is possible of course that books are lying. Maybe it never happened, but still…’

‘Hey, worker, hurry up!’

A rough voice pulled One-three-seven out of his dreams. This was a guardian, who hung upon him looking unfriendly through the transparent mask glass.

‘You are making a jam.’ He pointed on the crowded people, who couldn’t pass on, because One-three-seven stopped on the edge of the escalator and blocked the exit. Of course, any citizen of the city could just push him out of the way. At least tap his shoulder or shake his hand to bring the boy back to earth. Yet a touch to the other person was considered a mauvais ton in their city. It wasn’t a prohibition, it wasn’t a strict rule, but it was ill manners. Everyone knew that a touch to your kind – is a filthy, disgusting, sick and unhealthy action. Even through clothes, even when you have your gloves on, touching the other person was considered a moral taboo.

‘Get out of the way,’ said the guardian coldly. Speaker system in his respirator made his rough voice even more lifeless and unpleasant. One-three-seven obeyed immediately and hurried further, to his work unit, at the same time trying to notice other guardians, who stood across the whole area of the ground floor of the city and watched workers’ every move. They said that these guardians were of the former generation, which was born under the sky. Of the generation that built this city. Most people of the former generation, of course, have already passed away, but the guardians were special. Tall, broad-shouldered, they looked like soldiers. At least people who were called like this were mentioned in useless books time after time – strong, tough, with certain skills and talents. Moreover, they said that the guardians were not subject to aging. All the while that this city was existing, which was almost twenty years – a little bit less than One-three-seven, the guardians have been watching over it and neither did their bodies change, nor their eyes, that were looking closely on every worker. But all these were mere gossips, since because of a mask, respirator and uniform one couldn’t define neither the age of a person, nor who he was.

‘Don’t forget to take a vitamin capsule and use it right after crossing the entry point!’ said the electronic voice, warning everyone, who went to the city filter, about something, that was already stuck in their heads. Gas capsule was to be taken in the morning, right after waking, at work, at the beginning and at the end of the working day, and before sleep. These were small round containers that one could screw in the respirator instead of one of the purifying filters. Gas in the capsule mixed with the air and was claimed to supply the organism with vitamins. But something wasn’t right in all this for One-three-seven, although he didn’t understand what exactly yet.

‘Move along!’ One more guardian on the city filter territory brought One-three-seven, who was deep in thought again, to senses.

‘Yeah, I should concentrate on work!’ thought the boy, banishing unnecessary thoughts. It would not be good if he was declared mentally ill and put in the infirmary. He could think about all of it later, at home, secretly and in safety.

***

Most of the guardians were at watch on the low level of the city, were all the important operations were conducted. On the high level, however, in the endless spiral of the tower block with the row of identical doors, they could hardly ever be met. Yes, the caves weren’t safe, but nobody kept in the people in the city and didn’t have the intentions to immure them there. You could go wherever you like, but only death was ahead of you. At least brave men who desired adventures either came back from the caves two days later without finding the way out on the surface and scared to death by cave monsters or never came back at all.

One-three-seven, having an inquiring mind, also dreamt of going down this path, but, being a coward, hesitated to do it. Several times he left the city with a bag full of extra filters for the respirator, food and a couple of favourite books, but he always came back one or two days later, like all the others. What was happening in the caves he couldn’t put into words. Chances are it was the fault of the high concentration of different fumes, from which even the mask couldn’t protect, or pressure bumps, or whatever, any reason. There was one thing One-three-seven was sure of: what he saw outside the city were pure horrifying hallucinations because it was beyond him to believe this nightmare was real.

It was during one of these raids when he found the dump of useless books. They became the new way of escaping the reality of this faceless city for him.

One-three-seven looked around, just in case, to be sure that no one cared about him, and then entered the familiar tunnel and through it reached the small cave filled with books. The boy switched on the flashlight to reveal piles of books in the darkness, and a light beam went through the rotting heaps. What book should he choose this time, he wondered?

The books weren’t set out under some kind of principal. It appeared that they were brought to this cave on excavators and trucks. But still One-three-seven couldn’t shake the feeling, that the better the book was hidden, the more interesting information it kept on its pages. That’s why instead of picking one of the books that were lying about under his feet he climbed the pile of books to the top, being certain that he would find something worthy there. The boy almost reached the top when thick gilt back of a pretty massive volume caught his sight. Without pausing to think One-three-seven claw hold of it and tried to extract the book from under the others but he didn’t succeed. The volume didn’t move even a little bit. Putting a lot of effort into it was dangerous though because it threatened with a bookfall. One-three-seven had been to such small book-slides several times and every time it really scared him: what if one of the books would make a breach in the mask, what if he would be stuck in a heap and couldn’t get out, what if somebody would hear him walking in the dump of useless books, decide that he is mentally ill and throw him to the infirmary?!

With attitude like this it was better to just stay at home, but this option One-three-seven didn’t like either. He put away the flashlight and grabbed the volume with both hands, trying to pull it with all his strength. He was afraid of the slides, but this time the interest prevailed. For a moment it felt like there was no chance of getting what he wanted, but then the book started to surrender. One-three-seven pulled it out of the pile slowly and carefully and the gap that it left filled with the books from above. At first the boy thought that he got lucky and the bookfall wouldn’t happen. But he was wrong. The books started to fall very fast, but not on the side where One-three-seven was, but on the opposite. The rumble of the heavy volumes falling was accompanied by someone’s angry exclamations.

‘A human? Does somebody else know about this place?’ thought One-three-seven surprisingly, climbing higher and trying to see what was happening on the other side of the book pile.

‘Damn books!’ the sound of another swearing was very close to the boy, and only in semi-darkness he managed to distinguish the tall figure. Based upon his form and constitution this was one of the guards.

‘He came looking for me?!’ the boy gasped, switching the dim flashlight immediately and watching the stranger from behind the books. The guard acted strangely. He wasn’t like other guards, restrained, harsh warriors that seemed to be remained emotionless. The guard got out from under the heap of books without any problems and stretched his back, then looked in the direction, where One-three-seven was hiding. Except for the form and constitution the guards were different from ordinary citizens even with their respirators. Ordinary citizens had typical respirators with isolating half-masks on eyes and two gas filters on each side just below a mouth, while the guards had the masks on the whole face with one heavy filter in front. Besides, as everything in the city was colourless (it applied to anything, from clothes to faceless tunnels and corridors. Even food was colourless – packed meal that was given three times a day.) people were forced to be the one grey-black mass. Did they like it? Not all of them. Particularly active individuals a couple of years ago made light-emitting diodes trendy. Illumination became an important part of the city life. It was used to decorate everything and especially filters. Almost any colours could be chosen, except red one. Only the guards had their black respirators illuminated with a red mark: three undulated lines coming from one point. This mark was somewhat similar to a ventilator with bent fans. It was not only on the filters but also on the bands that the guards wore on biceps and that were also fitted with light-emitting diodes. Looking like this alongside black military caps with peaks and long heavy knee-high coats the guards seemed even more tough and scary.

One-three-seven’s respirator filters illuminated with yellow triangles. He liked this colour. He thought that this colour was warm and felt a strange connection with the celestial luminary he read about in useless books. At least there, on the pictures, the Sun was drawn yellow. Artificial lights: dozens of huge lamps embedded into the stone ceiling that shed cold bluish light. Thanks to them the city was in eternal shadows instead of total darkness. Their creators didn’t even try to recreate the Sun with its warm beams and soft light, which was definitely sad.

Once One-three-seven accidently managed to look at his reflection in the panoramic mask in a mirror and was surprised to see that his eyes are yellow too. Of course they were not as bright as glowing light bulbs, much lighter and the colour was more similar to clay than the Sun, but still! After this discovery the boy became determined to consider this colour his favourite.

One-three-seven feeling his heart pound madly burrowed his face into the pile of books so that the guard wouldn’t find him.

‘If only he wouldn’t notice me! If only he wouldn’t find me!’

But the guard wasn’t even trying. He looked around, picked up an open book from the floor, sat down on an improvised chair made of the books and continued to read, using the red filter light as an illumination. Obviously that was what he did before the bookfall.

‘Is he… reading?! These books?! This isn’t possible!’ The guards like no other propagandized abandonment from the books and concentration on work. So why was this strange guy reading a book?

One-three-seven wanted to know the answer to this question, but not that bad to take a chance to come to the stranger and ask him away. So the boy got away clumsily hiding the massive book under the leather jacket – his prize.

***

One-three-seven’s discovery turned out to be absolutely not like all the other books he brought home. And the differences lay not in the frontispiece or the size but in the content. The pages in it unlike the other books peppered with odd pictures and the texts seemed complicated and strange.

‘So many unknown words!’ The boy was feeling astonished, flipping through pages, reading carefully, but genuinely missing the point. The only thing he really did understand was that the book was about touching. Men, depicted on its pages, were constantly touching each other. Using not only hands. As strange and frightening as it may sound, they were using even lips, which seemed unbelievable for One-three-seven.

‘So that’s what naked bodies look like? At least used to look like…’ The boy was surprised having, in fact, a vague idea what do they look like now. Moral standards wouldn’t let seeing somebody naked. It was impossible to see yourself because there were no mirrors in the city. Time after time One-three-seven stumbled across references of the glass, which reflected everything undistorted. These things were used regularly in everyday life. People used to look at them all the time! Even several times a day! Now only the masks had the mirror surface. But everything looked blurred in them because of the thin layer of grainy dust that eventually grimed in the glass and didn’t scour anymore. Of course the mask could be replaced but not for long anyway due to the harsh conditions waiting on the streets of the city. And only a true madman or a desperate adventurer would dare to replace the mask only to look at them. Not only a mask replacement was considered a costly affair, but also dangerous. More and more defective articles appeared in the mask production every year. After several especially bad series people, who went out in their new masks, dropped dead faster than they realized something is wrong. Toxic fumes penetrated through a low-level protection and killed instantly.

Anyway it was useless to look at the mask. There were also details at work, in some of which the reflection could be viewed, but there were no possibility of taking off the respirator and looking at the face. Let alone at the naked body.

‘Come to think of it, last time I saw myself naked… four years ago.’ figured One-three-seven. Indeed. Even without the mirror people had the possibility to look at themselves, though not completely, when they took off their clothes. But there were no need of that. Everyone in the city wore a turtleneck and leggings under the outer garments. People didn’t take them off even while visiting a cleaning camera, as antisepticising gas filling it cleaned both the body and the clothes. This was really convenient.

‘Hm…’ The boy got out of bed and looked at his hand as if he saw it for the first time. Touching another person. Though it was considered disgusting, is there a big difference between touching the other person and touching yourself?

One-three-seven touched his right palm with his left hand. The skin appeared to be cold and a little bit rough, most probably because of a hard work, but the touch didn’t cause any discomfort. 

‘What if I would try touching myself where it is stated in this book?!’ The curious boy first touched his neck and winced slightly feeling his own cold fingers. He caressed slowly from his cheek to the chin with them and then his fingers lightly touched his lips. Nothing special and yet it seemed unusual. One-three-seven decided not to stop there. He pulled off his T-shirt and then, after a slight pause, the tight lower turtleneck that covered his chest, torso and hands up to the wrists. Getting rid of it, the boy felt ill at ease. As if he took off his outer skin. Too odd. Yielding to emotions, he immediately started to pull the turtleneck back on but stopped in the middle of the process. Curiosity won the fear of the unknown. The turtleneck ended up on the bed and One-three-seven peered at the pictures in the book again. On one of them a man touched, apparently, a bare woman’s chest. One-three-seven had never seen a naked woman. As well as a man. But with guys he at least had some meaningless words, while with girls he only met glances through the masks’ glass. He was never interested in them, and they weren’t interested in him. It was all because since childhood they were taught that the communication between two sexes doesn’t make sense. Strange. In this book men and women were clearly not just communicating but also touching each other. And they liked it. So that’s what the world under heaven was like? Mysterious, fabulous and so strange!

A drawn man touched a brown sphere on a woman’s breast with his lips. Why did he do it One-three-seven wondered? Was it this some kind of communication? Or a special ritual?

Curious One-three-seven looked at his chest from the top downwards and to his surprise found out that he had such spheres too.

‘Nip… ples…’ read One-three-seven in syllables and looked down at his nipples. Could he really touch them? They looked weird. Like big birthmarks. Or acne.

One-three-seven gently touched the left nipple with his fingertip and didn’t feel anything. He slightly pushed on it and an unpleasant feeling of anxiety that appeared after taking the turtleneck off only intensified.

‘Am I doing something wrong?’ thought the boy, not knowing what his mistake was. ‘Maybe I should try a mouth? A tongue?’ The idea seemed to One-three-seven quite practical, but still his plan didn’t work. No matter how much the boy tried to reach his nipple with the tongue, he didn’t succeed.

‘This book really is useless!’ thought One-three-seven angrily pushing away the volume, pulling the turtleneck back on and climbing into his bed.

‘Touching each other. Nonsense. And without turtlenecks! Horrifying! With a mouth…’

That night One-three-seven couldn’t fall asleep for a long time. No matter how hard he tried to let go of the images from the book they wouldn’t let him rest.

‘I have to know...’ The boy finally came to the right decision and only then fell asleep.

***

It took One-three-seven a while to approach the guard. The first couple of weeks he constantly peeped into the book dump after work hiding behind one of the piles and waiting. It turned out that the guard came to useless books every two or three days, sat on the same spot, which he built for himself from books, and did some reading. Each time something new. He never took the books away with him and never hid the volumes in a secret place to go back to them. As if he didn’t care what to read.

‘What a weirdo…’ thought One-three-seven watching the guard go once again and feeling sorry again that he wasn’t able to approach him.

‘What if it’s a trick?’ he thought. ‘Maybe that’s how they catch the curious? And then send them off to the infirmary?’

In fact One-three-seven didn’t have a clue what the Infirmary was. It was actually just a dreadful word, but what was behind it the boy didn’t know. Just remembered, how one evening they took his neighbor to this place. The guards went into his room and put him to sleep and then dragged out like a sack of potatoes. The next morning this room was already occupied by another person. One-three-seven never really talked to a guy but still he was very scared away by his sudden disappearance. There was a man. And there was no man. That’s when the guards said that the boy was placed into the infirmary. Allegedly he was sick. And as a matter of fact a week before this incident the neighbor began to act strangely. One-three-seven heard his either sobs or screams through the wall. In fact he couldn’t comprehend what he heard because no one emitted sounds like this in front of him before.

‘But I can’t stay in the dark!’ thought One-three-seven hiding once again behind book piles. ‘I need to know what these odd images and odd books are!’

Today the boy was bolder than usual. He didn’t understand himself why it was so important to him all of a sudden, but he was determined to see it through.

Already familiar guard in a black cloak, a cap and a respirator with red illumination slowly entered the book dump and headed for his favorite place. One-three-seven carefully moved in the same direction trying not to make any unnecessary sounds. But, to be honest, it turned out vice versa: the quieter he tried to go, the less he succeeded. First he touched one of the books that flopped on the rocky floor with a thump rumbling cavewide. One-three-seven panicked, tried to rush to his shelter of books, but stumbled and sprawled on the floor, doubling the roar that echoed off the walls of the cave.

‘That’s it, I'm dead!’ flashed through his mind. He was so frightened that he stayed on the books as he was, waiting for retribution for his actions. The boy waited for a minute. Or two. Retribution didn’t come. Then One-three-seven rose slowly to his feet and cautiously looked from behind the books on the guard. He was sitting as usual in his place, buried in a book. He heard the sound of falling. He had to. But he just ignored it.

‘So he isn’t going to catch me?’ One-three-seven gave a sigh of relief. ‘Well…’

The boy took a deep breath and slowly got out of his hideaway. The guard didn’t look back. Then One-three-seven came closer to him. There was no reaction.

‘Erm... Excuse me,’ quietly uttered the boy drawing attention to himself. In response to this quiet appeal the guard jumped in seat, dropped the book and stared at an unexpected visitor with a puzzled look.

‘Damn it!’ the man swore quietly grabbing his cloak on a chest. ‘You really scared me!’

‘But… I was coming to you loudly enough,’ muttered One-three-seven.

‘Loudly, quietly, it doesn’t matter. I was reading. I was in the other world,’ snorted the guard in anger clearly annoyed by the fact that he was interrupted.

‘In the other world,’ mumbled One-three-seven. ‘Must be great.’

‘Must be.’ This couldn’t be seen under the mask, but the boy was somehow sure that the guard was frowning.

‘I don’t care why you came here: to read, to set the books on fire or to try to find a way on the surface. Do what you want, but above all don’t bother me,’ having said this, a tall figure comfortably placed in the book “nest” and was just about to pore over a book, but One-three-seven wasn’t going to leave the guard alone so easily, especially after finding out that he would get away with it.

‘I… I’m… My name is One-three-seven,’ uttered the boy confusedly. ‘And you? What's your name?’

‘Does it matter?’

‘I need to know how to call you.’

‘You don’t.’

‘Don’t need to know?’

‘Don’t need to call.’

‘But why?’ One-three-seven was surprised. ‘The majority of the citizens don’t read books. Come to think of it, nobody reads anything except, perhaps, work brochures and news tickers on the TV. I was so surprised and... and so happy to see you!

‘Nothing to be happy about,’ snapped the guard out.

‘But… please, talk to me.’ The guard didn’t react to the boy’s words at all. ‘Okay, I will sit beside you and will wait for you to pay attention to me,’ sitting in front of the guard, sighed One-three-seven.

‘Do what you want.’ the man shrugged his shoulders and stared at the book again. Surely he thought that the persistent boy used threats lightly and after a couple of minutes would give up and leave. But he was wrong. The boy turned out to be stubborn. And he was madly excited about the idea that he spoke with the guard. Moreover, not a single or dialogue with anyone made him feel so many emotions. Although in this case the guard’s emotions could be called a simple irritation, but still… One-three-seven faced it for the first time and was delighted. Therefore, he wasn’t going to leave neither in a minute, nor in an hour.

***

‘You again?’ The guard almost groaned out loud when he saw One-three-seven near his book “shelter”. The boy kept following the man for the third week, giving him no peace.

‘Hello,’ he said, waving his hand as usual. ‘What are you reading this time?’

‘This.’ The guard clearly didn’t want to talk, but questions, related to the books, he couldn’t ignore, and One-three-seven, realizing this, shamelessly used this fact for his own gain.

‘And what is this book?’

‘A detective.’

‘A detective…’ repeated One-three-seven. ‘And what is a “detective”?’

‘A genre.’

‘And what is a genre?’

‘A set of substantial features of a fiction, to put it briefly.’

‘A set?’ repeated One-three-seven in surprise. ‘Substantial? Of a fiction? What is it?’ These words were unfamiliar to One-three-seven.

‘Nothing important.’ just waved the guard away.

‘Why? It is very important for me!’ the boy startled.

‘But why?’ For the first time in three weeks the guard asked One-three-seven a question, and not vice versa. ‘Why is it important to you? It has nothing to do with your work. And weren’t you born for it? To be a part of something bigger, to be a cog, performing certain functions?’

‘But… but the books tell a different story,’ startled One-three-seven.

‘That's why they’ve become useless,’ said the guard bitterly. ‘They teach the things that aren’t suitable to our world.’

‘And what is in this case suitable to it?’

‘Nothing. These books are about people. But we are not people. These books are about cities. But where we live is not the city. These books are about dreams, hopes, and the future. But we have neither the first, nor the second, nor the third. We are nobodies. And we live in the Nobody-city.

‘In the Nobody-ci...’ repeated One-three-seven.

‘That’s right. The Nobody-city. The city where nobodies live. The city without a name. The residents without names. Only a series of numbers. Isn’t it, One-three-seven?’ The guard's voice changed slightly, and the boy knew that he was smiling. Or even smirking.

‘But why did this happen?’ asked the boy carefully. ‘How did we come to this?’ he spread his hands.

‘This information is even more useless than the books under your feet.’

‘But still I want to know,’ insisted One-three-seven.

‘Maybe you want, but having learnt the truth, you will regret it bitterly,’ with these words the guard put the book aside, rose to his feet and headed to the exit.

‘Leaving already?’ startled One-three-seven.

‘And not coming back until you stop following me.’

***

The guard kept his promise. No matter how many times One-three-seven went to the dump, his companion didn’t appear there. The boy was upset and even angry about this at first, but eventually he calmed down and tried to forget what was so depressing. The book with strange pictures was hidden away in the closet, and new volumes One-three-seven no longer carried home. The boy decided to come to terms with this situation. After all, if he was born in this world and became like this, it makes no sense to try and pretend to be someone else. It makes no sense to dream of heaven, which will never be over your head, and it’s certainly not good to decipher strange books with strange pictures, where people touch each other for some reason.

‘If I touched him, not myself, would I have felt the same thing, or something else, I wonder?’ One-three-seven drove the stupid thought away. No good will come of these ideas. He knew it and ignored every similar obsession sturdily.

'It’s no use to think about such nonsense at work. It’s no use to think about such nonsense anywhere else,’ brought One-three-seven himself down a peg, screwing the filter layer to the inner wall of the large turbine and not quite understanding why he does it. Come to think of it, no one fully understood what he was doing. Computer managed everything. And orders were given by it too. Therefore, everyone was a very narrow specialist in his field. For example, One-three-seven usually changed pieces of the filter and sometimes cleaned it. But he didn’t understand the technology and didn’t even know why he does what he does.

‘The Nobody-city. We’re all nobodies. We don’t have names. We don’t know what we're doing. And we don’t understand why we live…’ damn thoughts gave One-three-seven no peace. Will he have to suffer a lifetime of questions that he can’t find the answers to? If only this stubborn guard told him everything! If only…

‘Oh no! His mask!’ A sudden scream made the boy take a break from tightening the screws and look into the narrow passage, from which the scream came.

‘Oh my God, what should I do?!’ One-three-seven hurried to get out of his workplace and, not really knowing why, hastened to the sound of scream. A pipe burst mere ten meters from him, and hot gas spurted from it. A boy lied next to a broken mask. Most likely, a sudden jet of gas threw him, who was passing by, against a wall, and he hit the mask with full force against the pipe. The glass, though solid, didn’t sustain and cracked. And toxic fumes penetrated in small portions, slowly poisoning the poor guy. The worker was unconscious either from poisoning, or from the fact that he hit his head too hard. A dozen of people had already gathered around him, but nobody was moving a finger.

‘Hey!’ exclaimed One-three-seven. ‘What are you looking at?! Hurry! We must take him to a clean area!’

Clean areas could be found both on working stands and in the city. They were small rooms with clean air. You could go there if you notice any problems with a mask or a respirator, but unable to get home to solve these problems.

‘Come on! Help me!’ cried One-three-seven, grabbing the boy by the hand and trying to drag him to the way out of the corridor and then to the Clean area. Others continued to just watch.

‘Why aren’t you doing anything?!’

‘But…’ he heard someone’s quiet words. ‘We will have to touch him. And touching each other is disgusting.’

‘That's right,’ confirmed the second voice.

‘I'm not going to participate,’ there was the sound of the third.

‘Are you out of your mind?!’ One-three-seven choked. ‘He's going to die! Are you going to sacrifice his life for the sake of morality imposed on you?!’

Nobody listened to him. People began to disperse quickly on their workplaces, not wanting to be a part of something vile.

‘Look at it,’ could be heard down the corridor, ‘he’s touching him.’

‘Horrifying.’

‘Disgusting.’

‘Hideous.’

‘No! No! HELP!’ yelled One-three-seven, carefully pulling the suffocating boy from the corridor, but instantly loosing powers. The injured was too heavy.

‘Help me…’ whimpered the boy, terrified by his own helplessness.

‘What's going on?’ The familiar voice made One-three-seven shudder.

‘He… His mask… Help! Please!’ He started to mutter, seeing the familiar guard approaching him fast.

‘Okay.’ He didn’t bother to make excuses. ‘Step away and don’t disturb me.’ The guard easily threw the dying boy on his shoulder and quickly went to the clean room. One-three-seven followed him.

***

‘He’ll live,’ confirmed the man, taking off the guy’s mask and checking his pulse. ‘The medicine that I injected him will cleanse the organism. He’ll suffer from a headache a couple of days, but everything else will be fine. Is this your friend?’ asked the guard looking at One-three-seven.

‘No.’ The boy shook his head. ‘To be honest, I don’t know him.’

‘And you were so worried about him? About an absolute stranger?’ The guard was surprised.

‘Every human life is priceless, no matter if I know him or not,’ muttered One-three-seven.

‘Did you read that in books?’ checked the man.

‘I did.’

The guard chuckled unintelligibly, looking at dishevelled One-three-seven through the darkened mask glasses.

‘You know, you're absolutely right,’ gasped the boy, hunkering down in front of the injured. ‘You’re right about what you said about the city and citizens. He was dying, and they all just looked at him. No one wanted to help. And it’s all because of the touch.’ With these words One-three-seven took off his work glove and, after a moment, his fingers touched the face of the injured.

‘So strange,’ he said, staring at his fingertips. ‘The touch isn’t disgusting at all. So why are we being convinced the opposite.’ He stole a glance at the guard. ‘You know, don’t you?’

The man kept silent for a while, as if pondering something.

‘I do,’ he finally answered. ‘But I won’t tell you about it here,’ said the man quieter than before, sneakily nodding at the camera in the far corner of the clean area.

‘Then where?’ startled One-three-seven.

‘Tell me the number of your apartment, and I'll come to you. At night.’

The period, when some of the lights in the stone ceiling were turned off, was considered night in the Nobody-city, because of what usually gloomy city was almost drowning in thick darkness.

‘To my place?’ The boy was excited by this proposal. No one has ever been in his dwelling.

‘Yes, to your place,’ the guard nodded calmly. ‘It’s safer than to meet in a dark cave stuffed with rotten books.’

***

One-three-seven was rather nervous. He was going from wall to wall the whole evening, not knowing what to do. He cleaned the room with gas. Three times. Every now and then he was rearranging already smoothen bed sheet. He was warming the tea up over and over again, even though he knew there was too much time before the arrival of the guest, and thought-thought-thought, what will this meeting bring to him?

‘This is so exciting!’ reflected One-three-seven, for some reason feeling the acute need in the very invention of the past, which was called “the mirror”.

‘What if there’s something wrong with my look?! And what if I got dirty with something somewhere?! What if…’ All these questions made One-three-seven grasp a comb, run to the shower cabin or disinfect both himself and his clothes once again.

By the time he heard knocking at his door, One-three-seven almost worked himself into hysterics. But with the knock the boy immediately pulled himself together and with the help of the panel by the door opened the outer door. The tall guest went into a small hallway, waited for the air to be cleaned, and only then took off his mask, respirator, coat and cap. One-three-seven was surprised to see that the guy who has come into his room didn’t look like an old man, like he expected. In appearance he was about twenty seven – thirty years old. And about the age of the guest One-three-seven judged by the pictures, never having seen people live of twenty seven, let alone of thirty years old.

‘H… Hello,’ stumbling, gasped One-three-seven.

‘Hello,’ nodded the guy, examining him from head to foot with the appraising look of cold blue eyes. ‘How old are you? I thought you were older.’ He winced as if disappointedly.

‘I’m twenty one,’ frowned One-three-seven. The excitement vanished. Why does he allow himself such behaviour? He came to visit and dares to be rude!

‘And I can give you fifteen,’ grinned the guard, sitting on the floor to a low table and touching a cup of tea. ‘It’s cold.’

‘What?’

‘The tea is cold,’ noted the guard, irritating One-three-seven even more with his behaviour.

‘I’ll warm more up now,’ he mumbled, not knowing why on earth he is angry. ‘By the way, you still haven’t told me how to call you,’ he noticed, pottering around by the electric stove.

‘My name is Sean,’ introduced himself the guard.

‘Sean?’ One-three-seven was surprised. ‘You have a name?’

‘An abbreviation,’ the guard corrected him. ‘My number is Six-one-null. Son – sounds a bit like “Sean”.’

‘A null ending number? I didn’t know those existed.’

‘Each guard’s number ends with null. Because we are zeros.’

‘Zeros?’

‘The first official citizens of the Nobody-city.’

‘Sean,’ repeated One-three-seven, as if trying the taste of the word. ‘Sounds great! Unusual, but great. Maybe I should abbreviate my number like this too? It will be…’ the boy thought for a while. ‘Ots.’

‘No, it doesn’t sound good.’ the guard frowned. ‘Othrees is much better.’

‘Othrees…’ repeated One-three-seven. ‘I like it!’

‘Sure you like it,’ the guy smiled, flicking off his blue eyes too long bang, which clearly disturbed him. ‘Well, nice to meet you, Othrees,’ and with these words the guard stretched his hand out to the boy. The boy stared at it in a puzzle.

‘What should I do?’

‘Shake it.’

‘Why?’

‘People used to meet each other like that. They said their names and shook hands. Try it. If you are not afraid.’ Sean grinned sarcastically, provoking the boy. Othrees grabbed the guard’s hand immediately and squeezed it with all his might.

‘Are you trying to break my arm?’ inquired the man, however looking bored.

‘No, I just…’

‘Loosen the grip. You need only to squeeze my hand a little,’ with these words the guard slightly raised Othrees’ hand, and then let it go. ‘So, we are acquainted.’

‘Acquainted,’ the boy muttered, freeing his hand of the handshake, and looking at it absently. ‘So odd. To feel the warmth of others,’ he uttered. ‘But there was a time when people touched each other all the time!’

‘Why do you think so?’ the guardian squinted warily, taking a cookie from the dish on the table and starting to crunch thoughtfully.

‘Wait a moment!’ promised Othrees, jumping to his feet, running to the closet, opening its shuts and starting to burrow in gray-black rags. ‘It's the book! It showed me!’

‘The book?’ asked the guard apathetically. ‘What kind of…’ he didn’t finish, seeing the volume extracted from the closet and choking on a cookie. The guard coughed a couple of minutes, until there were tears in his eyes.

‘My God!’ he groaned either choking, or laughing. ‘Of all the hundreds of thousands of books you found this particular! My God!’ he groaned again, this time apparently choking with laughter.

‘What's wrong with it?’ Othrees was surprised. ‘It’s weird… But it’s clearly describing how people used to…’

‘Oh, yes, everything is described here in the best way possible.’ The guard took a deep breath, trying to cope with emotions. ‘Because it's Kama Sutra.’

‘Kama… what?’ asked One-three-seven, uncomprehending.

‘In a nutshell, it’s a manual of taking pleasure.’

‘In a touch of another human being?’ inquired the boy.

‘Exactly.’

‘But if it can be enjoyable, why has it become a taboo?’ Othrees stared blankly at the guard.

‘Due to the epidemic,’ the guard sighed, taking a second cookie and starting to slowly destroy it too. ‘Civilization has reached its apogee. Our technologies allowed us to do anything. Anything at all. Shred our own bodies, trying to be more beautiful. Implement chips to have the knowledge. Become popular by absolutely unknown reasons. With the great potential came inevitable glut. Then people started to look for new ways of entertainment. It came to drugs and mindless sex. And somewhere in the depths of this immoral hell a new virus appeared. It was sexually transmitted. It would seem that it’s not the most common method of infection. Can’t be compared to airborne contamination. And yet, because of the sexual boom and decreasing moral principles people quickly found themselves on the verge of extinction. The problem with the virus was also in the incubation period – about a year. So by the time when they found the virus and begun to study it, almost everyone was sick. The virus was incurable… There was a very small number of uninfected, mostly children from one to five years old who were born before the disease outbreak. Also soldiers, some scientists and monks, who kept a long abstinence due to their profession specifics. And then the virus has mutated. It began to kill not only people but also animals, insects, everything. Destroyed ecosystem in three months, almost razed the planet. We had to do something quickly to survive. So we went underground. We created cities like this one,’ spread the guard his arms, ‘and crammed them with the newest equipment. The guards were to watch over children. A couple of scientists in each city were to monitor the healthy people condition. At first the cities were more like kindergartens as there were twenty children per one adult – luckily the birth rate was low in recent years. And when you started to grow up, the question about sexual education came up. Scientists haven’t been able to identify the cause of an outbreak. And so that the incident wouldn’t repeat, the non-taction policy was put in force. Children were being convinced that touching each other is bad. You haven’t even touched yourself without necessity until recently, right? Haven’t even got undressed, I bet?’ The guard grinned.

‘Well… lately…’ Othrees muttered.

‘I mean before this magnificent discovery,’ the man nodded at the book.

‘Oh… then yes. I haven’t,’ hastily agreed the boy.

‘Right. And you know why? It’s not only about the public settings. When children reached puberty and were full of hormones, they started to give you these.’ The guard twirled the empty capsule from the evening gas taking in his fingers. ‘The contents of gas completely suppress libido.’

‘Libi… do.’ One-three-seven had trouble repeating the new unknown word. He actually heard a whole bunch of unfamiliar words over the last couple of minutes, but was too embarrassed to ask Sean about the meaning of each one. In any case he got the hang of it.

‘Well yes. You don’t get aroused, don’t want that so colorfully painted in these books, don’t seek pleasure and, according to scientists, stay safe.’

‘And what about you? What do you think?’ startled One-three-seven.

‘I think it's a barbarism. A necessary barbarism. However, you got off easy. At first they were going to select the best specimens for further reproduction, and the rest sterilize like street dogs. It would’ve been much worse. Fortunately, these actions seemed too risky to scientists. Therefore…

‘They just decided to poison us with gas?’

‘Yes, just decided to poison you with gas.’

‘Do you take it?’

‘I must take it, as well as all citizens of the Nobody-city.’

‘You must, but…’

‘But I don’t,’ grinned Sean. ‘By the way, the kettle’s been boiling for five minutes already,’ he noticed. Othrees jumped up from the floor and started hosting with the kettle and the cups. The guard hoped that the fuss with tea will distract the boy from the topic discussed by them. No such luck. Having put in front of the guest the hot cup of tea, the boy continued his questioning.

‘And why do you not take it? Is your libido so important to you? And if you have it, then you want touches? What do you do with this desire?’

‘That’s not really the point,’ Sean sighed, realizing that he won’t get rid of the curious boy. ‘The problem is that this gas is not without side effects. Suppressing libido, it suppresses any desires of the most people taking it. This is not due to sex. Creative thinking, interest in anything, all this also vanishes. In fact, the gas makes us robots. Not everyone, of course, as I had noticed you are very curious even with a suppressed libido. I’m afraid to imagine what you would be if it was in the pink.’

‘In the pink,’ repeated Othrees thoughtfully. ‘And people stopped reading books for the same reason?’

‘Basically, yes. A lot of feelings that are described there aren’t comprehensible for present people. It’s difficult to read something you don’t understand.’

‘And in my opinion, it’s very interesting!’ roused One-three-seven. ‘For example, I recently read a book that describes this… how was it… snow! Cold white stuff!’

‘Oh yes, snow. There was a time when it was no big deal.’

‘Did you see it?’ Othrees was all eyes. ‘Tell me about it.’

‘Like you described, it is cold, white and wet.’

‘Wet?! I didn’t know it was wet!’

‘Wet, because it melts in your hands. In fact, it is water.’

‘Wow! Sounds unreal!’

‘Yes… Our whole past life isn’t real for the citizens of the Nobody-city.’

‘Was it hard for you to get used to a new life?’

‘I don’t know… I had a lot of opportunities in my past life, but also a lot of problems and responsibilities. The never-ending stress. And now… now calm reigns around. And boredom.’

‘Boredom, indeed.’ Othrees nodded. ‘So, when you joined the service in the Nobody-city, you were an adult. It turns out, you’re past fourty? Are you twenty years older than me?!’

‘Fifty, in fact.’ Sean grinned, watching with pleasure as One-three-seven’s big yellow eyes become even bigger.

‘You’re seventy years old?!’

‘Yes.’

‘But in books… It says that people grow old and change a lot. And you look young.’

‘It’s because I’m a soldier. We were artificially built up muscle mass, increased intellectual abilities, as well as injected some questionable drugs, trying to prolong life. Eventually humanity was degenerating. There were less and less people like me – strong and tough, capable of enduring military operations. Scientists wanted to strengthen the army and fed us everything they could. So the average soldier’s life span is about one hundred and twenty years.’

‘You’re lucky,’ noticed Othrees.

‘Hardly,’ Sean shrugged his shoulders. ‘Nothing is for free. There are always consequences and side effects. Not only in this goddamn gas.’

‘And what side effect has whatever scientists have done to you?’ Othrees curiously bent closer to the guard, hoping to hear an intriguing answer.

‘You don’t need to know.’

***

After the conversation with Sean One-three-seven didn’t know what to do with himself. At work he was thinking about the sad past, about touches that destroyed people, and in the evenings he was coming home and flipping through his favourite book again, touching the old pictures and trying to imagine what it is – the pleasure of a physical contact. It’s a pity Sean couldn’t explain him that, though he paid visits to the boy almost every night. He said that for the first time in many years he has finally found a worthy company. They mainly discussed what they read, drank tea or burrowed their faces into books, from time to time reading each other the moments they especially liked. But every time Sean came, Othrees couldn’t get rid of obsession to know what someone else’s touch is. He didn’t feel physical desire, but damn curiosity gave him no peace. Perhaps that’s why one morning One-three-seven twirled the gas capsule in his fingers, but didn’t put it in his mask.

‘Let’s see,’ he thought, ‘what will happen to me.’

The capsule, which was given at work, Othrees also ignored. He put aside an evening portion, still listening to his feelings, but not noticing any changes. The consequences appeared suddenly in the morning, when the boy woke up in a sweat. His body was shaking, throat was dry, he got goosebumps and something dreadful was happening in his lower belly. Othrees had no idea how to describe sudden feelings: something like the painful itching, which, however, didn’t settle down from an ordinary scratching. Moreover, it was as if swollen down there. So much that his pants were bulging. Othrees tried to get out of bed, but the burning between his legs intensified. So the boy had to send an explanatory about the bad state of health and the inability to come in to work by a pneumatic mail. Come to think of it, for the first time in his life Othrees was sick. For the first time in his life he was skipping workday. And this experience obviously would seem to the boy deserving attention and even delight, if not for the itching and a strange heat that went up from the groin to the chest. Othrees was so scared he was afraid to touch the swollen part of the body. And he couldn’t imagine what would have happened if not for Sean, who decided to drop by at lunchtime:

‘Hey, One-three-seven.’ Six-one-zero called Othrees by the made-up abbreviation only when they were alone, in any other case the boy’s name transformed into three numbers again. ‘You didn’t come to work today. I wanted to know if you’re all right.’

Othrees got to the control panel on half-bended knee and hastily pulled the door open button.

‘Come in,’ he breathed out heavily. ‘And explain what’s happening to me!’

Sean needed just a meaningful look on Othrees’ fly to understand everything immediately.

‘Oh, you fool!’ exclaimed the man, grabbing the capsule from the table, screwing it into the snatched off the shelf respirator and bearing down on the boy. ‘What have you done?!’

‘What?’ Othrees outraged. ‘I was curious!’

‘Nevermind what’s interesting to you, you can’t just stop taking the medicine that you breathed in for the last seven years! Do you have any idea how shocked is your body?!’

‘My body is shocked?! I’m quite shocked myself!’ moaned the boy, awkwardly backing away from Sean. ‘You better tell me what’s with my groin?! Am I dying?’

‘No!’ Sean growled clutching Othrees’ respirator with such force that it cracked.

‘Then what is it?’ exclaimed the boy, poking his finger at the lump between his legs. ‘It doesn’t fall away since morning! And it hurts!’

‘Of course it won’t fall off. After so many years of abstinence you could break walls with your boner. Inhale the gas immediately!’

‘Will you tell me what it is if I’ll inhale?’ Othrees almost begged.

‘I’ll tell you,’ promised Sean, forcibly pulling the respirator at One-three-seven and activating the capsule. The familiar bitter smell filled the boy’s nostrils. After ten minutes of the systematic taking of the gas the itching started to fall away and then disappeared completely. Othrees pulled the elastic of his pants carefully and examined the “injured” place closely.

‘Seems like it’s okay.’ He sighed with relief. ‘So what’s a boner?’

‘It’s when you’re aroused, and blood rushes to your genitals and puts them into full alert.’ Sean sighed, leaning his elbows on the table.

‘Alert?’ Othrees exclaimed. ‘So one can fight with it?’

‘One can fuck with it.’ Sean muttered under his breath.

‘Do what?’ The boy startled.

‘Give me your book,’ demanded Sean instead of answering. The boy, being immensely pleased that the itch fall away, leaped to his feet, pulled the book out of the closet as usual and put it on the table in front of Sean. He opened it on some page without looking and turned it to Othrees.

‘See?’ He pointed between the legs of a man who touched a woman’s breasts in a rather tricky pose.

‘And?’

‘Do you think it’s easy to put a cock into some hole when it’s “asleep”?’

‘I don’t know,’ shrugged Othrees his shoulders. ‘I’ve never put it into any holes.’

‘Thank God.’ Sean breathed out.

‘So it is necessary to put it somewhere in the “boner” state?’

‘Well… theoretically, yes, it would be in order. But it would be better not to be too creative and put it in some person. I mean pipes or holes in the walls are obviously not suitable for it. And I don’t believe I'm saying all this out loud,’ Sean groaned, covering his eyes with his hands.

‘And what’s the big deal?’

‘Let’s just say, discussing this out loud used to be considered at least odd even in a corrupted society.’

‘Well, it’s a different society now,’ noticed Othrees.

‘Yes, but for some reason it’s not making me feel better,’ frowned Sean. ‘You better tell me. What was the point of stopping to take the gas?’

‘I wanted to bring back my libido.’ Othrees became gloomy too.

‘What for?’

‘What do you mean?’ The boy outraged. ‘Isn’t it obvious? I wanted to experience what is drawn in this book!’ The boy smacked his hand on the drawing. ‘I want this too!’

‘Yeah? And who are you going to do this with?’ Sean was even more furious than before. ‘It takes two to do this, as you can see!’

‘I thought you could help me!’ Othrees got angry too. Why Sean can’t understand such obvious things?

‘Oh, you fool.’ Sean breathed out again. ‘You are such a fool. Are you blind? There is a man and a woman on these pictures. Do I look like a woman to you?’

‘It’s not true.’ Othrees got mad too. ‘You don’t always need a woman,’ with these words he flipped through the book, almost to the very end, and showed the new pictures.

‘Oh boy, it’s more explicit than I thought,’ Sean groaned worse than before.

‘Here only men are painted,’ Othrees tapped the pictures with a finger.

‘Yes, only they.’ Sean had to agree.

‘I want this too,’ insisted One-three-seven.

‘You can’t Want. Not with the gas.’

‘But I Want!’ Othrees didn’t give up.

‘So… okay, let’s take a different approach to it.’ Sean looked as if he struggled to find words. ‘You can’t do it with anyone.’

‘But you said yourself that…’

‘I said that because of mindless sex people, in fact, self-destructed. You can’t do like that. You can consider it a hint from above. And before that, before the morals were forgotten, these…’

‘Touches?’ suggested Othrees.

‘Yes, touches, only people who like each other did that.’

‘I like you.’ Othrees nodded readily.

‘Yes, of course. You don’t even understand what I’m saying.’

‘I understand,’ said the boy. ‘You’re talking about love, right?’

Sean looked more and more pale.

‘Sort of,’ he said in a hoarse voice.

‘I don’t know if I love you. But I like you very much! We’re talking! Drinking tea! Reading books!’

‘Such a relationship is called friendship. With this,’ Sean nodded at the book, ‘they are not related.’

‘Maybe… But still, I wouldn’t trust anyone else. I know that if I you touched me, I wouldn’t have been disgusted. I can’t vouch for others.’ Othrees still wouldn’t let it go. ‘Are you sure that it’s friendship between us? Maybe not, after all? I think I like you much more than just as a friend. What’s the difference between love and friendship?’

‘The eternal question.’ Sean sighed. ‘Personally, I think the only difference is that you’re not getting hard on friends, and you’re getting hard on a loved one all the time.’

‘But how can I understand that with my killed libido?’

‘Um… there’s no way.’ Sean shrugged his shoulders. ‘If there are any other signs, I don’t know them.’

‘So can we try and see just once?!’ Othrees didn’t expect himself to be so persistent. ‘Even if my feelings aren’t love, I’m sure I’ll handle it!’

‘The problem is not only in you,’ grinned Sean.

‘What's wrong with you? You know very well what these touches are. Surely you had such things not only in pictures.’

‘You’re right.’ Sean nodded. ‘But there's a catch. I’ve always preferred only women.’

There was an oppressive silence.

‘So…’ Having pulled himself together, Othrees spoke again. ‘Not all men did this with other men?’ he asked.

‘Not all. It’s… let’s just say, it’s a matter of taste.’

‘And it turns out, I’m not your type?’

‘Something like that.’

‘And if I was a girl, it could be otherwise?’

‘Yes.’

‘I can wear a dress!’

‘It won’t help.’

‘I get it. So, I’ll find someone else.’ Othrees tried to smile, but it was withered. He couldn’t understand himself why Sean’s words hurt him. Perhaps because he really felt something more than just friendship for him?

‘Or I’m disappointed…’

***

Even though curiosity still tortured Othrees, but without Sean taking part in it his fantasies suddenly lost all the meaning. He no longer tried to stop breathing the gas in, the book was hidden in the closet again, he hasn’t been meeting Sean – after that conversation there was a strange tension between them, that both of them didn’t like.

‘I lived somehow before. Without books and Sean. I’ll live now too,’ encouraged himself One-three-seven every time when sadness gave him no sleep again.

‘There is the bright side in what’s happened,’ he thought. ‘I learned how to be friends, learned what it’s like to communicate with someone. Also… now I know what it’s like to miss someone. I didn’t understand this feeling, but now… Sean, I miss you so much.’

As much as One-three-seven tried to get back to the old rhythm of life, every morning he instinctively looked for Sean among the guards. It constantly seemed to him that the man was in a crowd of workers, in a line for packed meal, even in his own apartment. And sometimes it seemed to the boy that he heard his voice.

‘Does he miss me, I wonder?’ One-three-seven asked himself this question already for the thousand time, lying on the bed and looking at the ceiling. The answer was a quiet knock on the door. The boy startled, jumped out of the bed and clung to the electronic peephole. The only person, who could knock on his door, really stood on the other side with a large package in his hands.

‘What’s he up to?’ The boy was surprised, opening the door and letting Sean in.

‘Hi,’ he greeted the guest, not hiding his surprise.

‘Hi,’ nodded Sean, hastily pulling off the mask from his face and walking into the room in a businesslike manner. ‘Sorry I came so suddenly,’ he uttered, placing the package on the table. ‘I’ve been thinking about your offer. And you know, I may be straight, but I haven’t been with anyone for more than twenty years. This period of abstinence will change anyone’s preferences,’ he grinned.

‘So…’ Othrees roused himself. ‘Do you agree?!’

‘Sort of.’ Sean sighed. ‘I’m still not quite sure, to be honest. So I brought this.’ He nodded at the package. ‘Look what’s there.’

One-three-seven looked inside, then put his hand into the package and pulled out a black woman’s dress with ruffles.

‘Wow…’ drawled the boy. ‘These kinds of dresses are worn only by girls from the TV. Where did you take it?’

‘From them. Try it on. And don’t forget about the stockings.’ Indeed, the dress went with the tight black stockings with white ribbon bows at the hemline.

‘Right now?’ Othrees was surprised. ‘But I took the gas all this time. I can’t right now…’

‘I don’t need it now. Let’s begin with my reaction to you, and then we’ll deal with how you feel about me. Agreed?’

Othrees nodded.

‘Then go and put it all on. Hopefully the size will do. I took it by eye.’

Othrees went to the shower cabin, hung the dress on one of the ledges, from which the decontaminating gas came out, and began to undress. The process of removing all the clothes itself still caused quite understandable discomfort to One-three-seven, and this unpleasant feeling intensified at the thought that Sean will see him like this. However Othrees wasn’t going to miss such an opportunity. He hesitated only a few seconds, and then pulled off his lower turtleneck and tight pants and appeared completely naked. A chill ran on his bare skin.

‘But someday maybe I’ll stand just like this in front of him. And he will even touch me…’ thought Othrees and felt his cheeks blushing.

‘Hey, are you okay?’ Sean’s voice was heard behind the door. ‘Need any help?’

‘No, I can handle this myself!’ One-three-seven forced these words in a suddenly squeaky way, becoming more and more nervous. With trembling hands he got into the dress, carefully smoothed the crinkles of a puffy skirt and zipped the dress up not without efforts. The dress was a bit small for him, it has squeezed the torso and Othrees’ chest so much at first it seemed he won’t be able to breathe in it. But after a couple of breaths and a quiet crunch of fabric breathing became easier. Having straightened the long sleeves that also ended with puffy ruffles and strings of beads, Othrees started to put the stockings on. It turned out it’s not the easiest thing for a man in a clingy dress. But the boy did it.

‘That’s it, I’m coming,’ said Othrees, smoothing his messed up black hair down and fixing the dress for the last time, then looked out from behind the door of the shower cabin. Sean sat at the table and stared at him expectantly.

‘Well?’ He hurried the boy up. ‘What are you waiting for? Come out.’

‘You know… I feel certain awkwardness,’ muttered Othrees.

‘I know, I do too,’ admitted Sean. ‘Couldn’t even imagine that in my old age I will dress a boy up in a girly dress so that later… well, you know,’ he chuckled, tapping his chin.

‘You’re not old,’ humbly muttered One-three-seven, eventually leaving his hiding place, making a few steps towards Sean and stopping. ‘It’s a bit tight,’ he mumbled, blushing under the man’s frankly surprised look on himself.

‘And in my opinion it fits perfectly,’ said the guard cheerfully, rising from the floor, coming closer to Othrees and starting to walk around him to explore all sides. ‘You’re so skinny. It’s not so obvious under your baggy clothes.’

‘Is it good or bad… that I’m skinny?’ clarified Othrees just in case.

‘I don’t know,’ Sean shrugged his shoulders. ‘I like it,’ he smiled, standing in front of the boy and cuddling him a little. One-three-seven shivered, feeling the touch on his back, but didn’t pull away from Sean, when the guy snuggled him. Sean’s warmth could be felt even through his thick turtleneck. Moreover, Othrees heard rhythmic beats – that’s probably how a human heart beat.

‘Are we already?..’ After a little thought Othrees decided to clarify this.

‘What “already”?’ Sean didn’t understand.

‘Already doing this… touching each other?’

‘We are touching, but the gesture is not what is described in the book, if that’s what you mean,’ Sean laughed. ‘It’s just a hug.’

‘What for?’ Othrees was surprised.

‘You don’t need to have any reasons,’ Sean sighed, pulling away from the boy and sitting back to the table.

‘Is that it?’ startled One-three-seven.

‘What else did you expect? You said yourself that your libido…’

‘It’s not what I meant. You can hug me more time, right?’ noticed Othrees, approaching the table. ‘This touching is new to me. I want more…’

‘Then sit down to me.’ Sean patted his knees.

‘Right on you?’ Othrees was amazed.

‘Right on me,’ the man nodded. After hesitating, the boy sat down on Sean’s lap, face to face, and nuzzled at the man’s collarbone. Sean gently embraced the boy, hugged him stronger.

‘Hugging is great,’ Othrees muttered, feeling wonderful peace. ‘How could’ve we been convinced that touching is disgusting?’

‘This is just the beginning.’ Sean grinned. ‘You’ll be surprised to know what you’ve been deprived of by limiting physical contact.’

‘But you’ll show me everything, right?’

‘Oh yes… Absolutely everything.’

***

‘A sudden stop of taking the gas is harmful. So to begin with just try to reduce the amount of it. Taking two-thirds of the capsule will be enough for now. According to the indicator on the side you will easily determine the amount of gas you've breathed in,’ explained Sean to dressed in a gown Othrees on that day. ‘The main thing is not to hurry. Don’t take less than two-thirds. I’ll come in a week, and together we’ll see how your body reacts to such changes.’

One-three-seven decided to listen to the Sean’s words this time and fully comply all his instructions. Two-thirds it will be. Honestly, he was even a little afraid of the reaction of his body now. What if that irresistible itch will appear again? The boy in fact didn’t know what to do with that boner. Fortunately Six-one-zero thought of that. When the guardian came by a week later, Othrees didn’t feel any changes.

‘I think everything remains the same,’ he said, thoughtfully smoothing the pleats on the dress.

‘Are you going to meet me… like this every time?’ asked Sean, implying the Othree’s dress.

‘If you need this, then yes,’ nodded One-three-seven. ‘These clothes are a bit tight, but apart from that there’s nothing special in them. And changing clothes I’m starting to slowly get used to not being in the lower clothes.’

‘Oh, well, since you’re not confused, I’ll bring you some other dress next time,’ Sean promised. ‘You look very cute in these clothes.’

Othrees nodded confusedly.

‘So… What are we going to do today?’ he asked, not hiding impatience.

‘Today we will master a kiss,’ Sean muttered, stretching his neck with a crack.

‘A kiss is…’

‘When you touch another person’s lips or any other part of his body with your lips. For example…’ Sean grabbed sitting in front of him Othrees by the leg and pulled him rough enough, making him to lay flat on the floor, ‘this…’ The man leaned over and kissed One-three-seven’s ankle.

‘It tickles,’ mumbled the boy, watching Sean’s further actions. The next kiss fell on the calf, the third was felt on the knee. These places were hidden by thick stockings, so the touches seemed nothing special to Othrees. It was much more interesting when Sean’s lips touched the skin above the stocking. The boy gasped and involuntarily raised himself upon his elbows.

‘A strange feeling.’ he explained in response to a Sean’ surprised look.

‘It will be even stranger now,’ promised the guy, grabbing Othrees’ neck and tilting him to himself with strength.

‘Oh, he has such long eyelashes…’ One-three-seven couldn’t help thinking about it just a moment before their lips touched. The kiss didn’t last long, only a couple of seconds, then Sean pulled back and raised his eyebrows:

‘Well? Do you feel anything?’

‘I don’t know,’ honestly said the boy, touching his lips and trying to analyze his feelings. ‘We need to try one more time,’ he stated with assurance. Sean smiled and kissed Othrees again, this time their lips touched much longer.

‘Still unclear.’ One-three-seven frowned. ‘Probably I should’ve breathed less gas.’

‘We’ve only begun.’ Sean touched Othrees’ lips for the third time, but his actions didn’t end on that. He carefully placed between the boy’s legs and stretched him on the floor, literally digging his lips into Othrees’ lips. And then something unthinkable happened: Othrees felt that Sean’s tongue gently stroked his teeth.

‘Is… is this necessary?’ He startled, when the man pulled back.

‘No, it’s necessary that you open your mouth.’

‘Are you sure?’ doubtfully asked One-three-seven.

‘Yes,’ nodded Sean. ‘I count on you.’

This action seemed odd to Othrees, but it didn’t make sense to argue with the expert Sean. If he said that it’s necessary, then it really is.

‘Also don’t look at me when we kiss, try to close your eyes and focus on your feelings,’ Sean continued to teach. Othrees nodded, closed his eyes and opened his mouth, as required. At first the man caught his lower lip with his teeth and slightly chewed it, and only then got into his mouth with his tongue. Gentle touches of the roof and the tip of Othrees’ tongue as if teased him. The boy tried to repeat. And it seemed he even succeeded. Sean suddenly became more intense, the kisses became passionate, sweet and almost didn’t let him breathe. In addition, while Six-one-zero rested one hand on the floor, trying to transfer some weight on it and not to crush the delicate boy, with a second hand he touched the bare Othrees’ thigh. The touch was unexpectedly distinct to One-three-seven. He even shivered, got distracted from the kiss and involuntarily looked down, watching as the hand slips on his thigh under the skirt.

‘Um-m-m!’ mumbled the boy, making Sean to stop and pay attention to his bewilderment.

‘What?’ Sean’s voice sounded irritated.

‘I feel!’ Othrees exclaimed. ‘I feel your hand on my leg! This is so odd!’

‘Unpleasant?’ asked Sean.

‘No.’ One-three-seven shook his head. ‘It’s not that. I don’t know how to describe.’

‘Nice?’ Sean continued to wonder.

‘I told you, I don’t know. I don’t quite understand the meaning of the word “nice”.’

‘Do you want me to continue?’

‘I do.’

‘Then it’s nice.’ Sean grinned and tried to kiss Othrees again.

‘But it's so strange!’ The boy’s emotions run high, and he wanted to share them with Sean, so he dodged from the guards’ attempts to kiss him on the lips to speak out. He hoped that Sean will stop again and keep the dialogue, but the guard had other plans. Having hit into the cheek with his lips, he walked down the track of kisses to the boy’s neck, and then suddenly sank his teeth into fair skin and bit One-three-seven.

‘Oh!’ Othrees roused. ‘It was somehow painful.’

‘It should be painful,’ hissed Sean at the boy’s ear and continued to cover his neck with half-kisses-half-bites.

‘Really? It was intended?’

‘Not really. I’m just angry with your chatter. During such… events people tend to concentrate on the feelings. At least in the beginning.’

‘Ah, is that so.’ Othrees realized his mistake. ‘Okay, I’ll try to keep quiet,’ he nodded, feeling hot Sean’s lips on his neck and being amazed with an unforgettable impression that made such touches on him.

‘Yeah, try. Or I’ll bite you to death,’ promised the guard jokingly, digging into the boy’s collarbones now and leaving brown marks on them.

‘Don’t talk, concentrate…’ called One-three-seven himself down, closing his eyes and really trying not to think about anything. But Sean’s hand has already got from the hip to the bottom of his belly and his lips were already felt on the chest! Try not to be surprised! When One-three-seven felt something very unusual in his groin, his verbal dam broke through:

‘Sean!’ he blurted out. ‘Something presses against my legs!’

‘Holy crap,’ moaned the man, pulling away from Othrees and taking sitting position.

‘You are the master of spoiling the situation,’ he muttered.

‘But what is it?’ Othrees gasped in confusion.

‘Try to guess,’ the man smiled sarcastically. ‘We’ve already discussed the boner.’

‘I’m hard?!’ gasped the boy. ‘The feelings were quite different last time!’

‘Not you, you fool. I’m also a man, by the way. I’m hard,’ painfully uttered Sean. ‘And I don’t believe I have to say such shit out loud again.’

‘Is that so,’ drawled Othrees with interest, rising from the floor too and sitting down in front of Sean. ‘And will you show me?’

‘What?’

‘The boner.’

‘No.’

‘Why?’

‘Because no!’

‘Then what are you going to do about it?’ didn’t let go One-three-seven.

‘I have two options: try to “calm” myself or masturbate.’

‘Masturbate,’ repeated Othrees. ‘Another interesting word.’

‘Very interesting,’ Sean snorted.

‘And what does it mean? What do you need to do?’

‘It’s self-satisfying… with hands,’ Sean sighed.

‘So, I can masturbate you?’ Othrees was a quick study.

‘No need.’

‘Why?!’

‘Your curiosity, oddly enough, completely discourages.’

‘Sorry. I will try to ask as few questions as possible,’ promised the boy. ‘Can I?’ He held out his hand and traced his finger along the bulging fly.

‘Only if you promise me not to tear it away out of the excessive diligence,’ Sean grinned, watching the boy’s actions.

‘I’ll be careful,’ Othrees nodded, unzipping the pants and pulling the unnecessary underwear.

‘Wow,’ he mumbled, gently touching the tip of the swollen cock. ‘It’s wet!’

‘Please, don’t make me explain this too,’ Sean almost begged.

‘Don’t worry, I’ve read about it. And by the way!’ The boy pulled the book up and began to flip it frantically. ‘Here! Here’s how you can do it with your mouth! A whole bunch of techniques!’

Sean has turned green. One-three-seven’s enthusiasm, of course, was pleasing, but his childlike spontaneity made the man feel like a pedophile.

‘You know, it’s not necessary to do it now…’

Sean didn’t finish his sentence because Othrees already bent down to his groin and gently licked the sensitive bell-end.

‘Ah.’ Sean responded surprisingly bright even for himself. How long ago was the last time he felt something like that? It seems like it was in a past life.

‘Is it bad?’ startled the boy.

‘No, go on,’ Sean hurriedly shook his head. ‘But first…’ The man unzipped his fly to the end and pulled out a cock hard as a rock.

‘And do everyone’s get this big in excitement?’ asked Othrees, gently touching the thick, spread with swollen veins stem.

‘No. I’m lucky,’ Sean grinned. Genuine interest in the process reappeared in the man’s eyes. But even now Othrees couldn’t let go of the feeling that Sean controls every word, every action. What would happen if he unleashed his feelings at least for a moment?

‘Maybe I’ll make him show himself!’ confidently thought Othrees, squeezing a little bit Sean’s cock at the bottom with both hands, and touching the saltish bell-end with his lips. At first he was only diligently licking it, but Sean let his fingers slide in Othrees’ black hair and began to lightly, but firmly press down on his head, implying the boy not to stop there and give a deeper blow job.

‘It’s like a kiss, right? Only instead of the tongue…’ Othrees opened his mouth wider and tried to take the Sean’s cock in, which wasn’t so easy. He managed to take in not more than the third of it. Deeper penetration caused strange impulses to Othrees and he began to cough. But it wasn’t bothering him. Having read the book of the actions of this kind, Othrees began to slightly suck Sean’s cock, letting it out of his mouth and then taking it deeper in. The part of the cock, which his lips didn’t reach, he was systematically massaging with his hands. The more energetically he was doing it, the more lube was exuding. Part of it, mixed with One-three-seven’s saliva, was running down the chin to the Othrees’ neck, part of it was dripping on the hands, part of it the boy managed to swallow, which is why a viscous lump quickly formed in his throat. Because of it One-three-seven was pulling away from Sean again and again, trying to swallow this lump. He knew he probably does things described in the book dreadfully, but that was enough for Sean. Quiet hissing groans went out of his mouth. At first Othrees decided that he was doing something wrong and got up to ask exactly what, but Sean’s hand didn’t allow him that. On the contrary, the man grabbed his hair stronger, despite Othrees’ pitiful resistance, and began to stick the boy on his cock with force, penetrating into his mouth deeper than the boy would want and causing a gag reflex, with which Othrees heroically coped. Breathing under this press was almost unbearable. Othrees had tears in his eyes and snot nose. But One-three-seven didn’t forget about what he does and, though unskillful, continued to suck the man’s cock, moving his tongue along the stem.

One-three-seven have already begun to enjoy and more diligently suck and lick Sean’s cock, when something shoot in his throat. He reflexively pulled back and swallowed, and only then was able to breathe normally. The man finally let go of his hair and allowed to get up.

‘Oh God, I’m so sorry…’ gasped the guard, only now seeing Othrees all in tears. ‘Forgive me, I didn’t want! I mean… I lost control!’

‘Were you pleased?’ calmly asked the boy, rubbing snot out from his nose and wiping dirty hands on the dress.

‘Ye… Yes, but you…’

‘I was a little bit scared, but that’s okay. I’m glad I was able to please you, even though I don’t understand what it is myself.’ Othrees shrugged his shoulders.

‘But you’re crying,’ Sean insisted, pulling the boy to himself and carefully wiping the tears from his cheeks.

‘I didn’t mean to. Just didn’t have enough air, so…’ Sean didn’t listen to the end, bent closer to Othrees and lightly kissed his lips.

‘You’ll be pleased too next time. You’ll see.’

***

‘I feel… hyped.’ Othrees have been taking only two-thirds of the gas for two more weeks. Sean was coming to him almost every night and they were kissing. A couple of times One-three-seven tried to help the guard with arising arousal again, but the man always refused.

‘Not yet,’ he was saying.

Then Sean allowed reducing the dose of taken by the boy gas to one-third. And so came the first odd feelings. At night Othrees started to see strange incoherent dreams including Sean, in which he touched him… everywhere.

And in the mornings a strange tugging feeling appeared below the belt. He didn’t get the hard-on, but a familiar itch, though much less notable, was present. By the time when Othrees came to work, the feeling disappeared, but appeared again by the evening.

‘Hyped?’ Sean asked, pensively biting a cookie. Today he came to Othrees again with the package, but was in no hurry to show the content of it.

‘Yes.’ Since Sean came without warning, One-three-seven didn’t have time to change his clothes and was wearing gray trousers and a black sweater as usual. And Sean wore a uniform. Black military pants that Sean tucked into army boots, a black coat with silvery buttons, a high stand-up collar and a silvery embroidery of a tiny mask and a respirator on the right pocket, and, of course, a black leather cap with a square brim. Sean looked very good in this uniform, but for some reason Othrees noticed it just now. A white shirt and a black tie could only be slightly seen from under the coat, the top button of which Sean had a habit of unbuttoning, but it that was more than enough for Othrees to imagine him grabbing the man by the tie and pulling him to kiss.

‘Something’s wrong?’ having noticed unusual gaze of One-three-seven, the man asked.

‘No, I’m fine, just I hadn’t noticed before that you’re… so beautiful,’ muttered the boy, feeling confused.

Surprised Sean choked on the cookie and tried to clear his throat for the whole minute.

‘Really?’ he gasped. ‘I think this is a good sign. You start to discover hormones that slightly alter your perception of the environment,’ he explained. ‘Well, let’s start?’ Sean asked, putting the package on the table.

‘New outfit?’ Othrees looked into it with curiosity and pulled out a new dress, which was, unlike the first, creamy with red ruffles and beads on a puffy multilayered skirt. ‘Wow, it’s beautiful!’

‘It will be even more beautiful on you,’ assured him Sean. ‘Try it on?’

Othrees nodded, took the bag and went to the shower capsule to change. Unlike the first dress, this one didn’t have stockings in a set, but there was a creamy garter with red flowers and black pearls. Othrees tied it on his hand, not quite understanding the true purpose of a decoration, and then went to Sean.

‘Nice,’ chuckled the man, giving the boy a greedy look. ‘It looks great on you,’ he said, obviously pleased with what he saw. ‘But that’s worn not here,’ he nodded towards the garter.

‘Where then?’ Othrees was surprised.

‘Come up, I’ll show you.’ Sean beckoned Othrees to himself with a conspiratorial smile. The boy approached the guard without any hesitation, pulled the garter from his wrist and handed it to the man.

‘Put your right foot on my knee,’ asked Sean. Othrees did what he was asked and the guard pulled the garter on the boy’s hip. ‘It belongs here,’ the man grinned, slightly tipping One-three-seven on the thigh.

‘But you can’t see it under the skirt,’ mumbled the boy, embarrassed by the touch to the bare skin. Though Sean did this not for the first time, but Othrees still couldn’t get used to it.

The puffy skirt was almost to One-three-seven’s knees, hiding a garter and thus making Othrees wonder about its use.

‘It shouldn’t be seen. To everyone. This decoration is intended only for the one who is lucky enough to lift this skirt up. In our case, this lucky one is me,’ Sean winked taking Othrees by the hand, gently pulling him to himself, and sitting him down on his knees. This time the man’s kisses seemed to One-three-seven particularly scorching. Were Sean’s lips so soft before? And his tongue so sharp? And did the sweetness in his mouth appeare only today or has been there all the time?

If the initiative usually fell on Sean’s broad shoulders, while Othrees listened to his feelings, analyzed what was happening and asked a lot of questions, today the boy couldn’t think straight about anything. Instead he showed actions much more willingly. The boy was overwhelmed by all the unfamiliar emotions, doomed to the uncontrolled actions based on instincts rather than cold reason. He just wanted to keep on kissing Sean again and again, to feel his hands on the hips, and cuddle with him more tightly, touching his bare neck and sinking in vivid impressions of all that was happening. He wanted to open the man’s coat, to put his hands under the shirt, to touch certainly muscular chest, and maybe not only it. To unbutton the man’s pants and cling again with his lips to the cock. Just thinking about it made One-three-seven get goosebumps. And being overexcited with his own fantasies, he was kissing and kissing Sean even more greedily than did the guard before. Activity and pliability of Othrees didn’t go unnoticed by Sean. At some point he almost forced himself to tore from the boy and catch his breath.

‘You are serious today, I noticed.’ Sean smiled, apparently satisfied with this fact.

‘I told you, hyped,’ confirmed One-three-seven.

‘Hyped up,’ corrected him Sean, bending the boy’s neck and starting covering it with kisses as usual. Actions seemed not different from what Sean had done before, but Othrees literally grabbed the man’s shoulders and moaned softly. Itching in the groin became more insistent. There was something like throbbing in his lower belly. He wanted to cling to Sean even more closely and preferably with that throbbing place. To cling and to rub. But no matter how Othrees was squirming in man’s arms, he couldn’t sit comfortably. Fortunately, Sean was more than perceptive. Without stopping to kiss the boy’s neck, he had his hand up Othrees’ puffy skirt and touched him where One-three-seven wanted it the most.

‘Wow!’ Sean even stopped the kiss. ‘You’ve got a boner.’

‘What?’ Being in a pre-ecstasy state Othrees didn’t understand what the guard said right away. He gave a blank look where the man nodded, that is between his legs, and noticed that the dress was bulging in a strategically important location. The boy gasped, grabbed the skirt’s hem and pulled it right up to his chest to marvel at the wonder: quite unambiguous silhouette loomed through the stretched fabric of black shorts that the boy wore under the dress.

‘Not as big as yours,’ muttered Othrees with a slight touch of disappointment.

‘You’re twenty centimeters shorter than me, what did you expect?’ Sean laughed, deftly taking the boy’s shorts off and admiring the picture with hardly less interest than Othrees. The man traced his fingers across the boy’s inner thigh, causing him a series of goosebumps, and then his fingers clamped on One-three-seven’s boner. The boy literally gasped with delight, groaning through clenched teeth and trembling. His feelings were too amazing and incomprehensible. If at this moment One-three-seven was asked to describe them, he would’ve most likely pathetically moaned through clenched teeth, failing to pick up a single suitable epithet to display everything that was happening to him. Not only the feelings were amazing and breathtaking, also it was as if they were growing with each passing second, leading to something even bigger. And it was intriguing and frightening at the same time.

Sean traced his hand across the hard stem only once, when a thick stream of sperm from his cock, staining the whole man’s uniform.

‘Oh!’ exclaimed the boy, having startled. ‘Sorry! I… I didn’t want to! It’s not me! I didn’t even understand…’

‘Don’t worry about it.’ Sean brushed off. ‘This uniform needs washing anyway. Feel better?’

‘No… Not really.’ Itching in the groin wouldn’t go away, the boner was still there. ‘Mixed feelings.’

‘Perhaps it was a premature ejaculation.’

‘Eja…’

‘Don’t think about that. You have an over-hormonization. I’ll continue? You don’t mind?’

‘Are you kidding?’ Othrees almost hissed. ‘I think I’ll go crazy if you won’t continue.’

‘Correct answer.’ Sean smiled gladly, unbuttoning his pants and taking out his hard cock. The man pulled the boy closer to him, wrapped his fingers around both cocks and began to give a rhythmic handjob simultaneously to them both. At first Othrees just quietly whined, having leant his head to Sean’s chest and closed his eyes tight. The feelings were so unfamiliar and so… enjoyable that he had to restrain myself from shouting. The sense of completion wasn’t so fast after the first time. When Othrees felt pleasure flowing to his groin, he broke down and began to slightly rub his cock against Sean’s cock asynchronous to the movement of his hand. Unlike the last vague one, this time Othrees felt the ending in all its glory. A wave of ecstasy overwhelmed him, flashing in his lower belly and instantly spreading throughout the body. There was a lump in his throat, his eyes filled with tears. And One-three-seven, moaning loudly cum… and burst into tears. Sean survived the ending not so violently. When his lover finished, he let go of his cock and with a couple of confident movements helped himself to reach the end. Surely the Sean’s feelings were as bright, but he kept his emotions under control, which couldn’t have been said about crushed by an incredible sense Othrees.

‘How are you?’ Sean gently patted the boy on the head, when his wave of hysteria has passed.

‘I couldn’t cope with myself,’ the boy mumbled. ‘I don’t know what’s gotten into me.’

‘Don’t worry, it happens. What do you feel now?’

‘Devastation…’

‘This happens too.’

‘And how to fight it?’ Othrees asked languidly.

‘I could stay with you. Overnight.’ The man smiled.

‘I have no place for you…’

‘You have a bed, if you wish we could fit there together.’

‘But… can we do that?’ Othrees was surprised.

‘Why not?’ Sean shrugged his shoulders. And he was right. When they went to bed, and the man pressed against One-three-seven’s back, hugging him, the boy felt an unusual calm. Former excitement fell away, the emotions subsided, and only Sean’s warmth and his soft breathing were left that Othrees felt on the back of his head.

‘And why haven’t we done this before?’ he wondered a little later.

‘Done what?’ muttered sleepy Sean.

‘Haven’t slept together.’

‘I guess we weren’t close enough.’ The guard shrugged his shoulders.

‘And now we are? After what we’ve done?’

‘I think it’s not only about intimacy.’

‘Then what?’

‘I just suddenly wanted to stay today.’

‘And before that you didn’t?’

‘Before that I didn’t think about such an end of the evening.’

‘So we’re getting closer?’ Othrees didn’t let up.

‘Yeah…’

‘Does this mean we’ll love each other soon?’

Sean didn’t answer. He fell asleep. Or pretended to be asleep.

***

Othrees continued the process of perception of his body. Almost every day the boy discovered something new. Not without Sean’s help, of course, who was staying overnight more frequently. Not always everything ended with sex, sometimes they were just chatting, drinking tea or even going crazy like children running around the small room and beating each other with pillows, for example. Othrees was incredibly full of energy. Sometimes he wanted to go outside and scream to the whole city of how he’s happy he’s got Sean! That he is only his!

‘I wonder,’ sometimes thought Othrees, turning to Sean at night and watching him sleep. ‘Is this love I feel for him?’

A couple of times One-three-seven thought of asking Sean this question, but somehow didn’t dare. What if it’s really love. It’ll turn out, Othrees will confess to him? What if Sean won’t want to love him back? What if he only likes to spend time with One-three-seven, but he doesn’t want all this to grow into something more. Although Othrees didn’t even fully understand the meaning of this More, he was still scared of these perspectives, because he had no idea how to live on if the guard suddenly wants to leave. And one morning this fear spurred him to put the capsule with gas aside on the shelf, not taking it at all. Othrees assumed that three weeks when he used only one-third of the capsule contents were more than enough for his body to finally get used to a minimal dose and prepare for the next phase – the complete abandoning of the medication. Then Othrees would overcome his libido and drive Sean crazy in bed. Determined and calm One-three-seven believed in himself on the first day, with caution, but quite comfortable spent the second, and on the third day came retribution. Othrees woke up in the middle of the night with a terrible boner. He tried to calm himself by a “handwork”, but quickly realized that wouldn’t help him. The boy needed Sean. The guard, as luck would have it, didn’t stay that night. Othrees suffered until the morning, realized that he was getting worse and sent two letters by pneumomail: one to work, the other to Sean personally with a very laconic text: “Come and save me!!!”.

Othrees understood that before lunch Sean won’t be able to come, as much as he wanted to, so the boy crawled into bed, curled up and tried to ignore the persistent feelings. Minutes lingered horribly slow, One-three-seven’s perception of time completely changed. A few hours that he waited for Sean turned into an agonizing eternity.

So Othrees didn’t believe his ears when there was a long-awaited knock. The boy was on his feet, wincing because of the boner, ran to the control panel and opened the door, letting Sean inside.

‘What’s the matter?’ Concerned man burst into the room, barely removed the respirator. ‘What did you? Stopped taking the medicine again?’ he exclaimed, instantly assessing the situation. ‘I explained that you can’t do that!’ Sean got angry, grabbing the gas capsule from the table. ‘Breath in the medicine immediately!’ he ordered. But Othrees didn’t even think about listening to him. Rather than obey, he threw himself on Sean, knocked him down on the floor, sat down on his belly and started giving passionate kisses. At first the guard even tried to stop the boy.

‘You don’t understand!’ he resented, while Othrees was throwing open his coat with one confident movement. ‘You’re not controlling yourself!’ Shirt buttons flew in all directions with one confident tug. ‘Think about the consequences!’

‘I’ve had enough thinking,’ Othrees said, pulling his lips to Sean’s lips and kissing him as deep as possible. Without a doubt, Sean couldn’t resist such passion. So he didn’t.

‘Today we can go all the way? Right?’ quickly whispered Othrees, helping Sean to pull off his shirt and lower turtleneck. For the first time getting rid of outer clothing felt freeing and not vice versa. And Sean’s hungry eyes that One-three-seven occasionally caught on himself today weren’t frightening.

‘You can do with me whatever you want,’ quickly whispered the boy, unbuttoning Sean’s pants and touching his cock. ‘Absolutely everything.’ It was strange, but Othrees was turned on by his own words. He liked to feel dependent on Sean, liked to feel his strong hands on his back and ass, liked his sudden wildness and sharpness. If two months ago someone said to Othrees he would cling to a man, he wouldn’t have believed a word of it, but now the boy looked more like a tomcat, who because of the painful arousal was ready to rub on the object of his desires, touch and caress him, no matter he liked it or not.

Of course, Sean got a hard-on. Instantly. And Othrees didn’t fail to take advantage of this, immediately taking his cock in his mouth. Except he couldn’t focus on a blowjob. Already terrible itch between the legs became an unbearable fire, so after half a minute Othrees literally begged Sean to do something with his condition. Even the most stubborn ones couldn’t have remained indifferent to the current situation, not to mention the not too patient Sean. The man silently turned Othrees to his low table, where they often sat cross-legged and read books, pulled off his pants, pressed Othrees’ face to the tabletop, thus making him unwittingly lift his ass, and leaned on him. The boy fidgeted impatiently, pressing his boner against the edge of the table and dying from the desire to continue. Sean had planned their first time in quite a different way: gentle leisurely movements, necessary foreplay and support items such as lube. But Othrees ruined all these plans, and now Sean didn’t think about anything like this, just because the only thought spinning in his head belonged to a desire to possess the boy. That’s why the man put his wet with the lube penis to Othrees’ ass and pushed inside without warning. The boy yelped, but didn’t pull back and didn’t stop Sean.

‘Relax,’ feverishly whispered the guard, pushing inside Othrees again and again and just not being able to stop. ‘Then it will be easier. Maybe.’

‘Yeah,’ only managed Othrees to mumble, wheezing to the table and clutching its edge with his fingers to such an extent that his knuckles were white with tension. It was painful. But the arousal was so deafening that it felt not as bad as it seemed it would. But he couldn’t relax, and Sean felt it. Then the man, leaning with one hand on the table, reached the boy’s boner with the second and began to give him a hard handjob. The boy either groaned or husked, shuddered, and then suddenly relaxed so that Sean could penetrate into him fully. Othrees howled from a deep push, and a moment later the guard felt hot moisture on his hand.

‘More…’ gasped Othrees sluggishly. ‘I want more… Don’t stop…’ he whispered, as if forgetting himself. And Sean granted his wish with all diligence, penetrating the ductile body again and again, with rough, dirty pushes, driving into him with ruthless, hungry passion, biting his neck and back and leaving bright spots on fair skin, tracing his fingers across his belly and chest, caressing and twisting his nipples, and then grabbing the boy by the hair and forcing him to lift up the table to hold him tight and continue to fuck in the new position. Othrees gasped, groaned, cried, scratching the table, Sean’s arm holding his chest and then his own belly. From time to time he was trembling with the new painful ecstasy attack, but the boner was still there. Lube mixed with sperm slowly ran down his thighs into the pants, tears and sweat flowed down his face, desperate half-moans-half-sobs flew from his lips sometimes mingled with muffled shouting of the guard’s name. This day was very long. Sean was insatiable, and Othrees was too intoxicated with his condition to stop it. Only in the evening the guard, having fucked enough, regained the ability to think. By that time Othrees looked like a rape victim. Scratched, covered with bruises of an excessive passion, tear-stained, with lips swollen of numerous kisses, with inflamed nipples and ass fucked to blood, he was lying on the floor, continuing to suffer from an uncontrolled desire. The blood rushed to his cock didn’t rush back. Sean had to force him to take the gas to calm him down. Othrees was resising, but languidly. And when his cock was down the boy fell asleep.

***

Othrees didn’t get out of bed for three days, and all this time Sean didn’t leave him for a minute: brought meals, spoon-fed and carried him in his arms to the shower, helped to go to the toilet and ointmented damaged areas. One-three-seven remained silent for two days, exhausted, weary and distant, and only on the third day, in response to Sean’s attempt to feed him, he suddenly spoke.

‘In the book, it was all described a bit differently,’ he said quietly. Sean flinched and nearly dropped the spoon, with which he scooped porridge from a bowl.

‘I…’ the man muttered. ‘Forgive me.’ The guard asked Othrees for forgiveness not for the first time.

‘For what?’

‘For what I did to you.’

‘You did what I asked,’ noticed the boy.

‘No, I should’ve been more gentle!’

‘It’s not what I meant,’ frowned Othrees. ‘When I said that it’s not like in the book. I thought it would be pleasing, but I couldn’t imagine how much!’

‘But…’

‘And it’s not just touching. I… I think…’ Othrees stopped, and didn’t finish.

‘What do you think?’ Sean asked cautiously.

‘I think I love you.’

Deathly silence fell over the room.

‘I don’t think it’s true,’ carefully uttered Sean finally.

‘Why?’ Othrees roused.

‘Because… How do you know what is it like?’

‘From books!’

‘I don’t think that’s…’

‘Sean, I love you!’ insisted Othrees. ‘And you? What do you feel?’

‘Listen…’ Already pale Sean as if turned into a ghost. ‘I’ve wanted to tell you… I have to leave.’

‘What? Where? When? What for?’ Othrees tried to get out of bed, but he couldn’t.

‘I’ll tell you if I’ll come back,’ Sean gasped, placing a bowl with porridge on the table, and headed out the door.

‘What do you mean if you’ll come back?!’ Othrees almost wailed, literally sliding off the bed and trying to follow Sean. But he didn’t have enough strength, and burning pain only slowed down already slow movements.

‘I didn’t rush you to the complete gas abandoning because I wanted to tell you first that…’ Sean frowned. ‘Six months. Wait exactly six months. And if I won’t come back, forget about me,’ said the man and left despite Othrees’ crying and begging.

***

The boy tried to get over Sean’s leaving for the whole week. He would’ve got out of bed much earlier, if not for disgusting, new, suffocating, unbearable feeling of emptiness, eating him from the inside. But life went on, and as much as Othrees would like to stay in bed, he would still have to get out of it sooner or later. A couple of days would’ve been enough for someone to recover, while others wouldn’t be confined to three months, but Othrees allowed himself to break down for exactly one week. A week of constant crying and digesting Sean’s words was enough for the boy to wake up early in the morning on the eighth day to realize that if One-three-seven will stay home at least another day he will just go crazy.

The first thing he did after getting out of bed was to take a double dose of suppressing libido gas. He continued taking it after the guard’s leaving, but took a double dose that day not so much for its effect but in order to show himself his own determination. Any experiments related to the medicine became meaningless without Sean. The second thing that did Othrees was to pull out of the closet the seven year old calendar. One-three-seven perfectly remembered the day when it was announced that Nobody-city residents don’t need calendars, because this timing was too outdated for the life people lead today. After all there weren’t any weekends or holidays anymore, no one knew about the tradition to celebrate birthdays or New Year. There were even no seasons in the underground city. So instead of useless pieces of paper a large display was put on the only square in the city that was located in the middle of a huge spiral house. It showed both exact time and day, month and year, and anyone at any time could find the necessary information simply by visiting the square. Except it was empty because nobody wanted to.

Othrees didn’t fully understand himself why he took the last calendar and kept it that day. A strange urge to drag all sorts of things home was in the boy since childhood, but it came in handy only now.

Othrees hang the calendar on the wall above the bed, and then circled with a red marker the last day of six months and boldly painted over the first week of the first month. Othrees didn’t care what day and month were at the moment, just like any other citizen, but Sean said he would return in six months and the boy wanted to wait for him.

‘Not six months already. Already less,’ muttered One-three-seven to himself, tracing his fingertips across the old calendar. Then Othrees had no idea how hard it would be. The gas facilitated the physical suffering, but couldn’t relieve the heartache. One-three-seven thought about Sean day and night, at work, during lunch and before bed. Especially before bed.

Once, while staying overnight at Othrees, Sean not only lost the blanket in the middle of the night, the boy managed to occupy the entire pillow. That night the man slept very bad and was like a zombie the next day at work. So that this trouble wouldn’t repeat the guard brought his pillow and left it at Othrees. Then Othrees didn’t suspect that this pillow will be the biggest treasure he ever had. When it was unbearably bitter for One-three-seven, he hugged it, smelled Sean whose smell was still on it, and cried. Long. Hard. Loud. Until he was tired and fell into an empty painful dream. But no matter how sad the boy was during the day, evening and especially at night, every morning, in spite of everything, he took a red marker and painted over another day.

Sometimes Othrees felt unusually full of strength and at such moments he didn’t doubt that after six months Sean would come to him and will never leave. But there were less successful days, when the boy completely lost faith in the guard’s return. He was analyzing what happened and asking himself a thousand questions:

‘Perhaps he didn’t like me in bed?’

‘Or the problem is that I’m not a girl?! Is this because I didn’t put on a dress?’

‘What if he’s just tired of me? But six months… Why six months?!’

In such days Othrees’ mood left much to be desired. He ate nothing, constantly made mistakes at work and in the evenings sat by the door, quite seriously wondering if he should go outside without the respirator and finally end his torment. But once Othrees looked at the calendar, he immediately banished all the bad thoughts. Sean asked to wait. And Othrees will wait.

After several months of living like this the boy didn’t notice how the calendar has become his only reason to continue living.

‘As much as I feel bad it isn’t for nothing, because tomorrow morning I’ll cross out one more day…’ Othrees was encouraging himself right up to the moment the marker flinched in an attempt to paint over the day circled in thick line six months ago.

‘Today.’ Having realized that the time has come, the boy slowly slid down on the bed, not daring to paint over the last day of the six-month period. Having sent a letter to work with a message about disease, the boy sat expectantly by the door. On this day time was slower than usual. The clock idly, as if reluctantly counted minute by minute, driving crazy with its sluggishness. Othrees didn’t left the door for one moment and so fell asleep in front of it. Sean didn’t come. He didn’t come on this day or the next day or the day after. On the fourth day One-three-seven lost all hope. Having woken up on the floor hugging a pillow as usual, he didn’t hurry to get up and clean himself up. The boy looked pensively at the ceiling, knowing that he no longer feel anything. He just didn’t have the strength to feel something.

‘My whole life is meaningless…’ The boy only had time to think about that, confident that the idea of a walk through the streets of the city should be implemented as soon as possible. And at this moment there was a knock on the door.

First One-three-seven decided that he started hallucinating from grief, but persistent knock repeated. Othrees, more dead than alive, crawled to the door control panel, clicked on the open button without looking and sat at the very threshold. There was the sound of footsteps behind the door, followed by the sound of automatic air purification. Somebody slowly took off his mask and respirator and only then went into the room, almost stumbling on Othrees.

It was Sean. Bewildered, he looked at the boy, while the boy forgot how to breathe. Not once he imagined the moment of their meeting. Sometimes in his fantasies he was screaming at Sean, accusing the man of leaving him. Sometimes he was kissing his face, thanking for coming back. He was doing other things, far more angry or passionate, but now, sitting at Sean’s feet, Othrees suddenly realized that he hadn’t a word to say. The boy grabbed the guard’s pant leg, struggled to his knees at first, then to his feet, nuzzled his nose into his chest and began to cry softly. So he stood there for nearly an hour, shaking with sobs and unable to say a word. Sean was also silent, only hugging the boy gently and sneaking kisses on his wet cheeks.

‘I thought you wouldn’t come back,’ uttered Othrees finally calming down a little.

‘I couldn’t not come back.’

‘But you’re late! You should’ve come three days ago!’ One-three-seven sobbed, pointing his finger at the calendar.

‘No, I’ve come to the day. You were counting incorrectly. In the second month, you see, only twenty-eight days. You were counting the wrong half.’

***

‘Will you explain where were you and why?’ It was night in the Nobody-city. Othrees made tea, and now he and Sean sat at the table in such tense, as if their tea party was organized in the middle of the cemetery. One-three-seven thought that they would start hugging, kissing and fiercely telling each other “I love you” when they meet, but the boy was afraid to be over-emotional, and Sean, apparently, too.

‘Do you remember, we were once talking about us – guards and our life span?

‘I do.’

‘Do you remember what I said in response to your enthusiasm about this?’

‘Something about side effects?’ suggested Othrees, feeling insecure and trying to remember more precisely.

‘About them,’ Sean confirmed. ‘I said that there are always side effects.’

‘But which ones you have you didn’t say.’ The boy nodded.

‘Yes. I didn’t want to talk about it then, but now I think the time has come.’ Sean sighed. ‘Guards’ longevity, which almost became legendary, is imaginary. When experiments have just begun the results were pleasing. We, the guards, were getting much stronger and tougher, our indicators really stated that our life will be long and productive. But in fact it wasn’t so good. We were human beings. And the human body isn’t fit to stresses we had to get through. Ten years later the first problems appeared. Prematurely worn-out organs stopped working. Living donors are almost impossible to find in the present situation, so the scientists have deduced synthetic analogues. They are almost no different from real organs, except their expiration date is no more than six or seven months. And no matter how hard geniuses struggled with their invention, extend the life span of analogues isn’t possible yet.

‘So you left because you had to change an organ?’ startled Othrees. ‘Does this really take as much as six months?’

‘Not an organ.’ Sean shook his head. ‘Organs,’ he corrected.

‘How many?’ quietly asked Othrees.

‘All of them.’

There was a dead silence in the room. One-three-seven tried to digest all that he heard.

‘So…’

‘The actual period of my life is six months.’ Sean nodded. ‘And every time there’s no guarantee the operation will be successful. Sometimes the guards die.’

‘Why didn’t you say anything? Were you afraid you’ll die?’

‘I was afraid to shock you with this. But there was another reason.’ Sean smiled sadly.

‘What?’ One-three-seven frowned.

‘Tell me, would you like to go outside the city?’ The guard answered with a question.

‘Of course!’

‘Then get ready.’ Six-one-zero smiled. ‘I want to show you one place.’

On any other day Othrees’ excessive curiosity wouldn’t have allowed him to get off of the man, until he answered all his questions, but not today. Intoxicated with happiness from the sight of Sean and the prospect of walking, the boy decided to postpone the questioning.

***

‘It’s not dangerous, right?’ Othrees made sure just in case.

‘Afraid?’ Sean mockingly winked, and even the guard’s panoramic mask couldn’t hide it from One-three-seven. ‘Where’s your adventurous spirit?’

‘I got it!’ Othrees frowned. ‘I just clarified. I wouldn’t want to get to the infirmary, being labeled a madman.’

‘They send to the infirmary not those who are guilty of anything.’ Sean laughed. ‘But people selected for procreation.’

‘So…’

‘Yes, after the candidate is selected, first he is being gradually reduced the dose of gas, and then taken, told the story of our world and granted the knowledge about the true purpose of touch.’

‘Well, the infirmary is no danger to us. I’m glad. But what about the caves? People often don’t come back from there,’ he mumbled.

‘It’s because we’re heading for a terrifying maze. It’s almost impossible to get out of it.’

‘Then how…’

‘Good thing, I have a map.’ Impudent grin was heard from Sean’s respirator.

‘And where did you get it?!’ Othrees admired.

‘Every guard has it. Our job is not only your safety,’ explained Sean to the boy and confidently walked into the cave. Othrees flailed around a little and rushed after the man.

Moving wasn’t easy. Most of the time he and Sean walked up the hill and that’s why Othrees quickly got exhausted and constantly asked for a break. In addition, the winding tunnels sometimes were so narrow that massive Sean barely fit between their walls and sometimes the guys even had to crawl. There were the caves on their way with not so polluted air. There they had snacks and drank and inserted new filters to continue the way.

‘Are we still far?’ Othrees promised himself not to complain, but it seems he has never in his life walked such long distance in a single day. The whole body ached with fatigue.

‘No.’ Sean shook his head to the boy’s joy. ‘Just a little more.’

Indeed, twenty minutes later Othrees felt the light breeze. But it was different from the winds that came to the city from caves. This one was some stinging, cold, piercing. And as soon as the boy was amazed by the first miracle, the second came to view. It took Othrees, filled with admiration, a long while to regain the ability to speak.

‘Is this…’ finally he gasped, getting out of the cave after Sean and staring with eyes wide open at the starry sky that unfolded over his head.

‘The sky.’ Sean confirmed. ‘And the stars.’

‘It’s so…’ whispered Othrees, unable to cope with the storm of feelings. ‘It’s so beautiful!’

‘Yes, very much,’ the guard agreed, looking at the sky too. ‘And we’ve lost this beauty.’

‘Maybe someday we’ll be able to get it back?!’ One-three-seven drawled hopefully.

‘Not our generation, for sure.’ Sean shrugged his shoulders.

‘And there?!’ Looking back, Othrees felt a new rush of excitement. ‘On the other side the sky is orange!’

‘Because it’ll dawn soon.’

‘Dawn,’ gasped the boy. ‘How amazing!’

‘Watching all this not through a blurred panoramic mask glass is even better.’ Sean smiled. ‘Good thing, there is a solution.’ The man took out a rectangular iron bar from the pocket, took Othrees by the hand and pulled up his sleeve.

‘Tell me, do you trust me?’ Sean asked.

‘Of course!’ Othrees replied without hesitation. The guard nodded and put the side of the bar on the boy’s arm. One-three-seven shivered, having felt a sharp pain. After a moment Sean took the bar away, leaving four punctures on the boy’s hand. The same thing he did with his arm, then to Othrees’ horror pulled off the mask and the respirator.

‘I injected us the antidote. The next ten minutes it’ll neutralize all that stuff we inhale. Alas, its effect lasts a very short time, but it’ll be enough for me.’

‘Enough for what?’ Othrees quietly gasped, cautiously, but still taking off the respirator and wincing at the burning smell immediately hitting his nose.

‘To confess.’ Sean sighed. ‘I didn’t tell you everything. During the artificial organs transplant we are injected drugs that greatly affect our memory. Because of them first the guards developed blackouts, and then we began to lose the new memories completely. That is, we remember what’s happened before the epidemic, but can’t remember what happens in those six months we live between operations.’

‘Lose completely?’ Othrees asked again.

‘Yes.’ Sean nodded.

‘That means…’ One-three-seven’s mouth was dry.

‘…I don’t remember you, right.’

‘Then how?..’ Othrees felt dizzy, there was a lump in his throat.

‘When memory began to slip, the doctors advised us to start memory diaries and describe there what really matters to us.’ With these words the guard pulled out a small worn notebook from the uniform pocket. Frankly, I haven’t written there almost anything in twenty years. Nothing significant. And just imagine my surprise when, after returning from operation this time and starting to re-read my diary as usual, I came across notes about some bothersome boy, who get into his head the desire to comprehend the basics of sex. And it wasn’t just one or two entries, I described our every meeting in the most detailed… and frank way. There’re even our quoted dialogues. You want to know why?’

‘Why?’ Othrees’ voice was trembling, but he was still holding on.

‘I’ll read out if you don’t mind.’ Sean opened the diary on the right page, cleared his throat and began to read. ‘“Yesterday he asked me whether our intimacy means that soon we can fall in love with each other. I didn’t answer because… I was already in love with him,”’ having read this, Sean looked at Othrees. ‘I didn’t explain the situation to you, leaving, because I was afraid that, having forgotten you, I’ll forget my feelings for you too. But you know… I was afraid for nothing. Just having seen you, I realized no medicine can erase such feelings from the memory. Because even with no memory of you I still… love you.’

The man smiled a little, seeming to wait for the answer.

‘Me too…’ croaked Othrees, not knowing what to do with the range of various emotions, tearing him from the inside. ‘I love you too very much!’

‘Well, that’s nice.’ Sean breathed out with relief. ‘I was afraid you would grow cold to me in my absence.’

‘How could I…’

‘Let the dawn witness our confessions.’ Sean smiled, nodding towards the rising sun. ‘Don’t you want to take a look?’ he asked Othrees, who wouldn’t take his eyes off Sean.

‘It’s been nine minutes, time to put on our respirators.’ Othrees uttered instead, suddenly cuddling the guard. ‘Better kiss me, I’ll have time to look on the sun through the mask.’


End file.
